Four Stories
by shadowluminus
Summary: An artist desperate to make the girl haunting his dreams real. A devoted soldier eager to prove himself by killing the evil witch. A Prince curious of the source of the beautiful songs echoing down the halls. A fisherman obsessed with mermaids. Four different stories, caused by love.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Leo has fallen in love with a voice. The voice that constantly echoed and haunted his dreams. It was a beautiful voice, eerie, soft, soothing, and Leo found himself looking forward for every night when he'll be able to hear this voice, singing to him as he dreamed.

But even though he was in love with the voice, he had never seen the source of the voice. It was a girl, definitely, but how did she look like?

Leo constantly wondered about this, and in his opinion, it will forever be a mystery.

 **τέσσερις ιστορίες**

Frank was not one to gossip, but when he heard the news about the witch that lives in the forest, he couldn't say that he wasn't interested.

"Her eyes are the color of molten gold," the other soldiers laughed as they downed their cups of beer. "Gold? She must look ridiculous!"

But Frank didn't think so. He found it very intriguing that there are somebody in this world with golden eyes. They must be a really pretty pair of eyes.

And then, when announcements were made that this evil witch must be slain, Frank was determined to go.

People had teased him for his clumsiness and thought that he wasn't a good soldier because of that.

Well, he'll prove to them that he was good soldier.

He'll prove to them by killing the witch with the pretty eyes.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Jason had spent his whole life in this castle, and yet he still manages to find nooks and crannies that led him to places he had never went before.

This was one of the times when he had gone through so many hallways and passageways that he had gotten himself lost.

Glancing at the watch, he realized that he had missed his tutoring lessons. Jason grimaced. Last time he skipped his classes, his father had had a long talk with him about the importance of education and what-not. Honestly, that man was even more boring that his tutors.

As he wandered further down the hall, he heard a distant singing. Continuing to walk, the volume of the voice slowly rose.

It was a beautiful voice, singing a beautiful song. Jason couldn't understand the lyrics but he was still attracted. He was vividly reminded of mermaids who lured sailors into their deadly traps with their beautiful voice.

Following the voice, Jason arrived before a simple wooden door. When he pressed his ear against it, he could almost see the person inside, singing…

He flung the door open, and was met by darkness. The singing had stopped abruptly. Jason found himself in an attic-like place where broken, useless things were stored inside.

And it was void of any living being.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

When Percy snared a gigantic, silver tail in his net, he thought that he would finally make some decent money.

The fish was long, and huge, and its silvery gray scales shimmered in the most beautiful way.

He pulled and hauled, trying to get the fish into his dingy little fishing boat. But it thrashed and protested with such force that Percy was almost pulled into the seas.

With one huge haul, Percy managed to get part of its tail into his fishing boat when he saw something floating in the water. It was gold, and it looked almost like… hair.

The last thing he saw of the fish was its furious expression before the tail flopped mightily and it swam away, pulling Percy's torn net with it.

And then, it was gone.


	2. Trapped

**I**

Calypso was trapped. She was trapped in this dark world void of anything. It was boring, and also scary, because she couldn't see anything. It was too dark. She had been here for almost as long as she could remember, and nothing had changed. She was cursed to stay trapped in this limbo forever.

She could remember other people around her; she knew that they existed. But where have they gone? Why is she here? How did she get here? Her own life is a mystery to herself.

The dark world was empty and cold and Calypso's only source of entertainment was singing, and that's what she did most of the time.

She filled the emptiness of her prison with songs and tunes; she brightened them with her voice.

Calypso had thought that she will spend the rest of eternity here.

She hadn't thought that somebody had overheard her cry.

 **τέσσερις ιστορίες**

Hazel was trapped. Not literally, but she hadn't left the forest since… well, she had never left the forest before.

She could leave, she knew she could! But she couldn't.

One, because everything she owns are in the cave in the middle of the forest.

Two, because she knew the forest so well it was like her home: it _is_ her home. And it was a beautiful home and she couldn't bring herself to leave.

Three, because her Mother, when she was alive, always told Hazel to never, ever leave the forest. The people outside are big, bad wolves. They'll kill you and skin you and eat you alive… That doesn't even make sense, but she's not about to doubt her Mother.

Hazel didn't want to believe it, but she's unsure if it's true. She found it ridiculous that people outside would do such thing to people who lives in the forest, but she was still frightened. I mean, what if it _is_ true?

And so she stayed in her forest, thinking that she will spend her whole life here, just to be safe.

She didn't know that somebody had begun searching for her.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Piper was trapped. Quite literally. She had no idea how she arrived here and why the hell she's here, but here she is, in a large, comfortable bedroom with no way out, and no way in. There were no doors, no windows, just a large mirror on one side of the wall.

But something was wrong with the mirror.

When Piper looked into it, she didn't see her reflection, but instead, seemed to be looking at a gigantic piece of white cloth.

What in Hades?

Other than the fact that the room had no openings and there is a very strange, very broken mirror, it was pretty normal looking and comfortable room.

The walls were covered with rice-colored wallpaper, striped with light brown. A small crystal chandelier hung from the middle of the ceiling, constantly shining. A large, comfortable bed sat on one corner, the mattress soft, the pillows plush and fluffy. There was a closet near the bed, next to the strange mirror, which Piper had covered

with a piece of white cloth. The clothes in the closet constantly changes through the years, always matching Piper's size perfectly. A small round, dining table that belongs on a balcony or something stood in the middle of the room, right under the chandelier, a single, lonely chair on its side. Every morning, noon, and night, marked only by the old grandfather clock on another corner, a small meal would appear on the table. Just like everything else, it was a mystery. A bookshelf stood in another corner, filled to the brim with a bunch of Piper's favorite books. It was fascinating. No matter how long Piper tried to remember all the books on the shelves, she would always find new ones. There's a writing desk on the other side of the room, opposite of the bed, next to the bookshelf. Quills and parchment had been placed there from the start, the ink and parchment never running out.

There was a small doorway leading into a small, clean bathroom. At least the mirror in the bathroom isn't broken.

Piper had been in here since she was eight.

At first, she was bewildered, scared, and spent many nights crying for her Daddy, but no one every came.

She was utterly alone.

But slowly, she began getting used to the loneliness. It's not like she had a choice. And life here isn't that bad if you think about it.

And so she lived on.

The only problem about this place was that it was very, very boring. There was literally nothing to do.

And so, taking the quill and parchment, Piper began writing and drawing: stories, songs, little images… anything that popped into her mind. Over the years, her notes had piled up into heaps, and she kept all of them organized in folders and binders that she had found in the shelves under the desk. There were currently approximately thirty-seven folders of randomness stashed under the bed.

Piper spent many of her time reading, writing, staring into space, but most of all, she sang. It was the only thing that seems to be able to break the lonely silence of the room.

Two years after she had arrived at the room, when she was ten, a piano suddenly appeared next to the bed. Piper was overjoyed.

But now, eight years had passed, and nothing had changed.

Before, Piper had hoped that some kind of foreign Prince would appear and save her, but she had lost hope since then. She was no longer some immature child.

She had thought that her life will drain through this room.

She didn't know that her lost hopes and dreams are starting to come true.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Annabeth was trapped. She could never leave the Sea. It had been her dream ever since she was little: To leave the Sea and explore the dry world. She was obsessed with it and had basically memorized all the books describing the world above. But unlike the people that dwelled on the Land, she didn't have these things called 'legs'. She had a tail. A fish tail.

She was a mermaid.

She was a myth in the Land. Ironic, because people of the Land are myths to the people of the Sea.

Nobody had wandered as near the surface of the Sea as Annabeth had. Nobody had ventured so near the large drifting pieces of rocks that was the world of the Land. Many people marveled at her bravery and boldness, and it's only making Annabeth even cockier.

And it's her pride that landed her in big trouble.

Annabeth's smart, but she was caught by surprise when the Land person on this thing called a boat suddenly threw a large net overboard, ensnaring Annabeth's tail almost immediately. Honestly, it was as if that stupid looking but super hot boy knew that she was there.

Immediately, Annabeth started struggling, but the Land person was stronger than she had expected. He had managed to hold her for about half a minute before she managed to get away, dragging that cursed net which she made sure she tore to pieces down into the depths of the Sea with her.

At least he didn't see her face… right?

But it didn't matter if he did, because now Annabeth knew. She would never fit in with those people. She couldn't. They were so different from her.

They can breathe normal air with no trouble, but they couldn't breathe underwater. Their ears weren't fins. Their fingers weren't webbed. They had frigging _legs_.

It's just not _fair_. Why is it that, she, Annabeth Chase, who had always wanted to explore the Land, has to be stuck in the Sea?

What she didn't know was that there was a way out. And perhaps she had already found it.

 **Please Review!**


	3. Dreams and Quests

**II**

Leo dreamed of the voice again, and in the morning, when he woke up, the voice continued echoing in his mind, the eerie, haunting song repeating itself over and over.

He was a mechanic and an artist, and he was known as one of the best. He could create things from his memory. His imagination was turned real by his hands.

His mind filled by the song of his dreams, Leo let his instincts take over and allowed his hands to work. They carried on their tasks by themselves, all the while in perfect rhythm of her voice.

It was nearing midnight when he finally finished.

Almost instantly, the song vanished, leaving Leo feeling empty inside, like something in his soul had flown away. It was a horrible feeling, and to Leo, it made it harder to breathe, like he was dying.

But when he saw the piece of work in his hands, the hole was filled up almost immediately. It was simple, small, and petite, and looks like a simple wooden box; but when you turned the small knob on the side, notes echoes from it. Notes that sounded almost exactly like the sad, haunting notes in Leo's dreams.

Almost.

Not good enough.

And so Leo threw the little wooden box to the side, fell onto his bed, face-first into the pillow, and let sleep take over him.

The moment the darkness took over his mind, the singing began again. But this time, it wasn't just a voice.

Leo saw a pair of eyes. A pair of beautiful, almond shaped eyes whose brown color was impossibly soft and warm.

And he knew that those eyes belonged to the voice.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Frank had always had to worked extra hard to prove himself, mainly because of his clumsiness, and that is why he's very determined to be the one to kill the evil witch. It's a very straightforward job, and Frank wouldn't have to do extra work to prove to other people that he's able to do it.

That was his motivation to start the hunt earlier than anybody else. Immediately after the announcement of the witch hunt, Frank rushed home, grabbed anything necessary: clothes, food, a water bottle, numerous weapons, and he was off.

From the copy of the map of the where the witch is predicted to dwell, Frank estimated that it will take him at least five days on foot if he was fast and if he didn't meet any problems on the way, which is possibly impossible.

Taking a deep breath, Frank embarked onto his journey.

τέσσερις ιστορίες

Frank had walked for almost the entire day and the sun was setting. Soon, it will be night and nighttime in the forest is the most dangerous.

He decided to park next to a small stream, so he could have water when he needs it. Not only that, the stream has fish in it and Frank couldn't help but be glad that he brought matches. He had been very sure that the food he had brought wouldn't support him for three days, let alone five.

Frank has his bow and arrows though, so he could always hunt if he ran out of food.

Pulling out a piece of stale bread and hunk of dry cheese, Frank settled down to eat and rest. His bow and arrow lay right next to him, just in case, and his spear was also strapped to his back.

He ate, but took care to save enough for the future. Then, he settled down to rest.

To be the first, Frank has to move quickly. He planned to wake up at the break of dawn to continue on his journey to cover more distance.

If he killed the witch, not only will he become rich, he might also be promoted! Then he wouldn't have to constantly worry about being laughed at for his clumsiness. His life would be so much easier…

τέσσερις ιστορίες

He should've remembered that sleeping in the middle of the forest is very dangerous.

Well, Frank knew that, but he was so tired after traveling the whole day that when he fell asleep, he slept like the dead.

When he finally woke, it was nearing noon, and to his horror, his sack of food and other supplies had been transformed into a pile of ashes. Luckily, he kept all his weapons on him, and he had stored the map in his pocket.

It relieved and confused Frank of why he's still alive. Why would someone (or something) destroy his supplies yet leave him and everything on him alone?

Groaning slightly as he stood up, looking around. And almost screamed.

Tiny glowing forms of strange looking… things are appearing slowly on the trees; literally. They had gone from completely invisible, to slightly transparent, to opaque, and were now completely solid. Some were sitting, others standing. They didn't look like anything possible: their heads were shapeless lumps with three small black holes in them, two bigger than one. Their bodies were short and stout, barely bigger than their head, which clicked as they cocked their heads to the side. But instead of just cocking their head, it continued turning sideways until it was about one hundred eighty degrees twisted to the side, then suddenly spun back to the original position with a loud _clack!_

Frank could only stare with his mouth hanging open. What the hell are they?

He was completely surrounded by the creepy, staring, slightly glowing… things. Really, there were no words describing what they are. They are too small and harmless looking to be considered monsters, but they're too strange to possibly be some kind of animal… especially since Frank doubt there were any animals that glows.

For a moment, everything was frozen: the air seemed to have stopped as well. Even the _things_ stopped creepily twisting their shapeless heads.

Let's just call them the things for now.

And then, suddenly, one by one, the things stood up. One by one, they began walking away, occasionally looking back, their heads clicking, as if seeing if Frank was going to follow.

He wasn't sure if they wanted him to follow or not. Frank plopped down onto the grassy ground. Well, either way, he's not following them.

That is, until some of them began tugging on his shirt. To his shock and horror, wherever they touched his clothes, a hole was burned through the fabric. When he touched the holes, they were steaming. But when the things touched his hand, he was completely fine: no burns or anything. Even more baffled, he stood up, mainly to avoid the things completely ruining his shirt.

The things apparently thought that Frank standing up meant that he will follow them, and began to leave as well.

When Frank didn't budge, the things turned back, their heads clicking and clacking annoyingly.

They gestured with their white, fingerless 'hands', trying to get Frank to follow. When he still didn't move, they hurried back to him and began pulling on the hem of his pants, leaving behind small, sizzling holes on the thin fabric.

In fear of losing his pants because of these tiny things, Frank began to follow the trail of them through the forest.

As he walked through the dark forest, dimly illuminated by the faint glow of the things, some of the things dropped from the trees to settle in on his shoulder or on his head. To his relief, they didn't burn a hole through his shirt on where they sat, nor his head.

They clicked and clacked next to his ears and all around him, frustratingly distracting. Soon, he had no idea where he was, and all he was able to do was follow the things around. He didn't know where he was going, and why they are trying to lead him somewhere. All he could do was follow.

The sun began to rise, the sky turning orange, but Frank wasn't tired at all, despite walking through the night. The things gave off this energetic vibe that was somewhat like coffee, except it's also like radiation… like coffee radiation, you could say… That barely makes sense.

In the light, the things weren't so bright anymore: they looked almost opaque, but Frank was able to follow them just fine.

Another few hours of walking, the sun was almost directly above his head: it was almost noon.

And that was when all of the things suddenly vanished. They're just… gone, poofed into thin air, leaving Frank all alone in the middle of the forest, not knowing where he was at all.

The things had led him into a maze.

And that was when he heard singing.

 **Please Review!**


	4. Accuracy and Adventure

**III**

A huge canvas.

And on it was only a pair of almond shaped, warm brown eyes.

But even though it was just the eyes, it was so detailed and realistic it seems real. So real. Too real.

But it wasn't real.

Time passed. Night after night, day after day.

More colors joined the eyes, more parts.

A delicate mouth; a slender neck, beautifully curved shoulders and arms; a slender waist, the dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose…

It wasn't enough.

But Leo learned to be patient. He looked forward to every night when he would see even more of her. And he could tell that she's beautiful, more beautiful than any other woman.

The painting was so real, so life-like.

But it wasn't real.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Jason hated many things.

He hated how boring and annoying and strict his father was. He hated how cold and distant and unloving his mother was. He hated how his sister had ran off, abandoning her duties, leaving all the responsibility and pressure to him.

But most of all, he hated how big the castle was.

After he had gone back, enduring through a long lecture and scolding, then through his punishment for skipping classes, he began exploring again.

But this time, he wasn't just exploring. He was searching. Searching for the voice.

But the castle was so damned big, and was such a maze that soon, he was hopelessly lost.

When he passed a servant, he halted her and inquired, "Do you know where the attic is?"

The servant hastily bowed and murmured, "The attic, your majesty?"

"Yes. The attic."

"Um…" she looked nervous. "Which attic are you talking about, my Prince?"

Jason swore. The castle has dozens of towers, all of them with attics. "Just give me all the locations of all the attics, please," he said finally, sighing inside.

And that was exactly what the servant girl did.

When he got the paper with all the locations of attics, he couldn't help but groan. There were so many! But steeling himself, he began to search.

The first attic was locked, and the door was iron. One down, twenty-nine more to go.

The second attic was open, but the door was also of iron. Two down, twenty-eight more to go.

The third was both unlocked and wooden, but the attic was completely empty. Three down, twenty-seven more to go…

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Jason was at the fourteenth door and he was ready to give up.

His feet were aching from walking from tower to tower, his legs exhausted from climbing up and down, and he was very, very thirsty.

Not only that, he had missed another two tutoring lessons, and he was sure that this time, his father wasn't just going to lecture him and ground him for a week or something.

But he continued searching.

Fourteen down, sixteen more to go…

As he climbed up slowly and tiredly up the fifteenth tower, a familiar voice drifted past him. Immediately, he perked up and started running up the stairs. The singing grew louder and louder, the beautiful voice flowing through him. The attic was so close…

He flung open the wooden door, once again met by darkness; but he had come prepared. Though his candle was no more than a stub by now, it was still burning, and he lifted it above his head to let the light spread through the room.

It was dusty. Obviously, nobody had come in here for a really long time.

Jason strode through the room, leaving behind dark footprints in the thick dust that layered the floor.

He threw open the dusty and moth-bitten curtains, then pushed open the old, creaky open. Red light of the setting sun settled onto the floor, blowing up feathers of dust.

Jason looked around.

There wasn't much in the attic: an old, abandoned table with broken chairs around it, a dusty cabinet, a broken violin… and a mirror.

The mirror was covered by a large white cloth, and when Jason pulled back the dusty cloth, he found the mirror. It was a simple yet beautiful mirror, the borders embroidered with gold.

Using his hands, he wiped the surface of mirror, turning his hands and sleeve black. He coughed as the dust filled the air, and sneezed a few times as well, but he survived.

It was a strange mirror, and when he looked into it, instead of seeing his reflection, all he saw was white.

And the singing was radiating from the mirror.

Frowning confusedly, Jason examined the mirror, circling it, running his hands over it.

But he found nothing.

The singing continued.

"Hello?" he asked cautiously, feeling stupid as he knocked on the surface of the mirror. The singing stopped abruptly.

And to his shock, the white on the other side of the mirror rippled and was drawn away.

And through the mirror, Jason could see a nice, comfortable room. But it wasn't the room that caught his eye.

It was the girl.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

The singing made Frank's heart flutter.

It was soft, lilting, a haunting lullaby that echoes and goes on forever. When the voice grew closer, he began to hear clicking as well. Thousands of invisible things clicking their heads, watching from around, listening… celebrating.

The person who emerged was not the witch. She was not golden-eyed.

But she was beautiful. The clicking grew louder, more frantically, until it sounded like applause, deafening against Frank's ears.

Her hair was bright gold in the sun, but when she passed through the shadow, it turned bronze. Her eye colors change in the sun as well, turning from purple, to blue, to brown. Her skin was the color of milk and honey and seems to glow faint gold in the sun.

In simpler words, she looked like a goddess.

Frank was speechless as he stared at her. Her simple white dress billowed majestically around her legs, the gems on her bracelets and necklace glowing. She was barefooted, and in one hand was… a basket of breads.

At first, she just strolled through the forest, chatting happily with invisible creatures that Frank couldn't see. And then she saw him.

The clicks and creaks stopped along with her as she stared at the soldier, looking him up and down. Frank turned red, afraid that she'd judge, as people often does, but instead, she didn't say anything- just smiled and held up her basket of breads. "Welcome to the forest, brave soldier."

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

"So…" the girl sat down onto the soft grass, beckoning at Frank for him to follow her example, "What brings you here?"

Frank wasn't sure whether or not he should answer. He didn't know this person, and although she looked nice enough, looks can be deceiving. "I… uh…"

Great, that just made him sound stupid.

"Let me guess," she tapped her chin, looking thoughtful. "Are you traveling through the forest to get home? To visit someone? Or," her lips quirked into a small smile, "are you on a quest?"

"Uh…"

Honestly, Frank hated his mouth.

"The latter then," she smiled sweetly. "That's great! What kind of quest is it? To find a treasure? To save a princess? To slay a witch?" her smile widened.

Finally, Frank managed to say something that was actually words, "Who are you?"

She didn't answer immediately: she got distracted by a little bunny that leapt out from the shadows, nuzzling her hand. She petted it and picked it up carefully, turning it around to make it face Frank. It was a pretty cute rabbit, with dark gray fur, a typical fluffy rabbit tail, a cute, twitchy pink nose and… glowing red eyes. Not only that, it had fangs, like walrus husks, but smaller (much smaller) and much, much pointier. Frank vaguely wondered how the rabbit was able to run or anything without accidently impaling a paw or something. The fangs were quite long.

And sharp.

Very sharp.

More animal emerged from the forest behind the girl. A herd of deer, their golden eyes glowing, their antlers and horns an abnormal color of gray with a strange, metallic luster, the ends of the branches so sharp it seems to disappear and fade at the tips. Squirrels with cold, beady black eyes, their buckteeth large and heavy, dripping with poisonous saliva, their claws curved and pointed.

Frank gulped nervously.

Suddenly, the girl no longer seemed kind and sweet. There was something sinister about her, a dark aura, and her eyes had settled with a deep shade of purple, her hair turning a coppery brown. Even the shadows grew longer.

"Who am I?" she repeated Frank's question. "I am the Queen of this forest, the protector and watcher." She gently lowered the bunny to the ground and held out a hand, her nails long, pointed and sharp. "Will you do me a favor, my brave soldier?"

Frank made a sound like a mixture of a whimper and a gulp. Apparently the Queen takes weird noises as 'yes'.

"I am trapped," she explained, "in this horrid form. Some curse has been put on this forest. It is no longer beautiful and pleasant; it had become dangerous. My friends are turned into monsters," she gestured to the mob of animals around and behind her, "and I am trapped in the form of a human. I am a protector, a spirit of the forest. Every animal, every spirit Fae, every nymph and dryad are under my care. Yet here I am; in this form, I am unable to do many things or save many lives, my powers are limited. Humans began to hunt in here, and began to cut down trees, killing my nymphs. You are the only one who has seen me now and not run away, so I beg you this: Save us."

Truth to be spoken, Frank really, really, really wants to run away, but he's frozen there. He tried to speak, to ask a question, but all that came out of his mouth was, "Uhhhh…"

"I believe what you want to ask is what will you get in return?" the forest protector raised an eyebrow at him.

Frank nodded numbly, not actually registering what she was saying.

The Queen smiled, not answering the question. "When night falls, Frank Zhang, go to sleep. At midnight, you shall wake, and find the spirit Fae. They will lead you onto the right path, so that you may succeed in your task. In return, I will give you anything you want, anything at all." She glanced up at the sky. "Ah, time does past fast. Night is closing in, my soldier. Now, rest in peace."

And as Frank's lids grew heavy and his vision dimmed, he couldn't help feeling like she didn't just mean for him to have sweet dreams.

 **Right! Please Review! :)**


	5. Saviors and Murderers

**Suzubells: well, here's your wish come true! :)**

 **Thanks for everybody who reviewed. Please enjoy!**

 **IV**

 _Percy sighed deeply. It wasn't too long ago since there was a storm and his village had almost flooded. He strolled down the beach, littered with dead fish, sea plants, and garbage._

 _The old moon is tarnished, with smoke of the flood._

 _The dead leaves are varnished, with color like blood._

 _Tonight was a crescent moon, like a treacherous smiler, with teeth white as milk. The waves lapped up, licking Percy's bare feet._

 _The sea creeps to pillage, coming up to meet him in a smooth golden cloak._

 _He could see her, choked and beaten, half dead._

 _Her bright locks were tangled, silver under the moon. And there she lingered, washing her long fingers in silvery light…_

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Percy's eyes snapped open.

He could still see the afterimage of the silver crescent moon, with that Cheshire cat smile.

He could still see the dead, rotting leaves, blood red; like the blood on her face, the bruises on her neck.

He could see her, sprawled on the beach, half submerged with water, her golden locks tangled and glowing silver.

He shook his head, trying to clear it. It was such a strange dream: unable to be considered a nightmare, but it couldn't possibly be a sweet dream either. It was more like… a message.

He left his little cottage, throwing on a random shirt, not even bothering to put on shoes, and rushed down to the beach.

Tonight was a crescent moon, casting a white light onto the shore, tipping silver into the ocean. The sea mist looked like smoke, the leaves were cold and rotting under his bare feet.

And there, half submerged with water, was a girl, bruised and battered. But other than her numerous injuries, she was beautiful, with high cheekbones, full lips, and smooth skin. Her golden curls were silver under the moonlight, but were wet and tangled. She was donned in a simple white dress that seems to absorb the moonlight, and it only made her look even more regal.

Percy couldn't stop staring.

 _'She must be a survivor from a shipwreck or something,'_ he thought, though slightly unsure. There hadn't been news about a shipwreck nearby and to drift around in the sea for too long… well, it's a huge doubt that somebody could make it out of the water alive. She must be freezing.

That sentence snapped Percy out of his thoughts. She has to be freezing, especially at the coldest of the night. And so scooping her up as gently as he could, he carried her back to his little cottage.

He didn't know that what he brought back was more than she seemed.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

When Frank woke, it was midnight, just as the protector of the forest had told him. But even though it was the dead of the night, the spirit Fae casted a bright glow to his surroundings. When they saw him wake, they began to click in excitement, eagerly jumping off the trees where many of them were perched on and landing gently onto the ground.

Frank stood as well, somewhat groggily.

One by one, the spirit Fae began to trickle out of the clearing, all of them heading towards one path.

 _'They will lead you onto the right path, so that you may succeed in your task.'_

Frank stretched for a moment before following the spirit Fae away from the clearing, into the labyrinth of trees and nature.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Once again he walked for a very long time, long enough for his feet to begin to ache and his lungs to scream for water.

The sun had risen, and if Frank was to estimate, it should be around seven or eight in the morning. Even though it was already daytime, Frank could still see the spirit Fae, however hard it may be.

Finally, after a quick stop at a small stream and numerous rests, they arrived at a large clearing. And in the clearing, surrounded by wildflowers, a little dirt path leading to the mouth, was a cave of gray rock.

It was a large cave, and the entrance was covered by long ivy plants that grew all over the rock so Frank couldn't tell whether or not the witch was home.

Slowly, carefully, he crept up to the entrance of the cave, straining to hear any movements from inside. He didn't hear anything. When he pushed aside a strand of ivy with one finger, peeking into the cave, he was met by darkness. The cave was empty.

It was at that moment did he hear the humming. It sounded like the humming of a little girl, cheerful and innocent, but Frank had been surprised. Immediately he pushed aside the ivy and stumbled into the darkness of the cave, hiding behind the rock.

Frank tried to control the breathing, as every sound seemed to echo through the cave, and from the corner his eye, he peeked from a crack in the ivy to see a small figure emerge from the forest.

It was a young girl, clearly younger than Frank. Even from this distance, Frank could see that she had dark skin, and she had a mane of curly, cinnamon brown hair. As she skipped closer however, still humming happily, Frank saw that her eyes were a vibrant shade of… gold.

She was the witch.

And she was coming directly towards the cave.

Slowly, silently, Frank slid his bow off his back and notched an arrow. His eyes followed her as she came closer and closer. When she was so close Frank was sure he couldn't miss, he shifted into shooting form, angling his body and moving a foot back. The witch bent down to pick up a flower.

 _Thud._

Frank froze.

The dull sound echoed through the cave: his foot had hit something.

Frank saw the witch straighten, her brows furrowed. She first looked around in confusion, then started towards the cave, and in panic, Frank let the arrow go.

The arrow pierced through the air, a deadly blur of silver, but the witch had keen eyes. Or maybe she's just very jumpy. Either way, the moment the string left Frank's hand, twanging to a stop, the witch dropped her flowers and crouched into a ball on the ground, covering her ears and screaming so loud Frank's ears began to ache.

A flock of birds rose from the trees in the distance.

The arrow flew over her and embedded itself into a tree.

The witch stood shakily, her gold eyes wide, staring at the cave. Then to Frank's horror, she began running towards it. Cursing under his breath, Frank notched another arrow, aimed, and let it fly, but the witch dodged to one side, efficiently avoiding it. She continued to run.

Before Frank was able to notch a third arrow, the witch burst into the cave, ivy strands flying. Her hair was a mess, her eyes wide, and she was taking deep breaths as if trying to calm herself down.

When she saw Frank, her eyes widened, the gold glinting in the dim light. And then screaming- with fear or shock or something, Frank don't know- she grabbed the nearest thing- a clay jar, and smashed it onto Frank's head.

The last thing Frank saw before he blacked out was stars, and a pair of golden eyes.

 **Please review!**


	6. Waking and Reality

**Sorry for not updating in eons, but life has been so boring I just couldn't bring myself to find the motivation to write. This chapter took me forever, but at least it's one of the longer ones I've written, so enjoy!**

 **V**

Storms.

That was the first thing Percy thought of when the girl opened her eyes.

A beautiful, powerful storm which, from afar, seems petty, but was fatal when close. There seems to be swirling bits of clouds in her stormy gray eyes, like the howling wind, like the angry, tossing sea, impatient to reach the shore.

Later, Percy found out that that was exactly what the girl was: beautiful, yet deadly.

Groggily, the girl sat up, her eyes trying to adjust to the light of the morning sun. She rubbed her eyes, her bruises already fading. For some time, she looked around the room, confused, wondering where she was, before she saw Percy. She jumped a little when she saw him, but quickly regained her proud, confident composure, demanding a little haughtily, "Who are you?"

Percy blinked before answering, "Um, I'm Percy. If you're wondering where you are, you're in my house. I found you by the sea last night. Are you hungry?"

"What were you doing by the ocean? What did you see?"

Percy was confused by the girl's question. "Huh? I was, uh… taking a walk. Got a bad dream… And what I saw… well, I saw you… You looked kind of bad, with a lot of bruises and injuries… Are you okay? Where are you from?"

Now it was the girl's turn to blink, looking surprised. "Y-Yes, I'm fine."

"Well that's good." Percy nodded, satisfied, not noticing that she never answered his second questions. "So… you hungry?"

Right on cue, the girl's stomach grumbled, causing her to blush lightly. Percy laughed and held out a hand, pulling her wobbly to her feet. "Oh yeah, by the way… what's your name?"

The girl smiled a little sheepishly. "My name is Annabeth."

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Jason couldn't help staring. And he really, really wanted to scream. Like a little girl. And wave his arms in the air while he screamed like a little girl. And maybe run around the circles a few times as well. Because it was impossible, simply impossible, for his reflection to be one of a _girl's_.

He opened his mouth, feeling the scream begin to build up in his lungs, but before he could get the sound out of his mouth, somebody beat him to it.

It was his 'reflection'.

The girl inside the mirror screamed so loud and shrilly, it could break glass.

She spun around and ran off, vanishing into the sides of the mirror, her scream trailing behind her.

After a few seconds, her scream died off, and she rushed into the mirror again. Then, she screamed again, and ran off once more.

Through all this, Jason just stood there, his mouth wide open, his eyes feeling like it's going to pop out of his head.

The girl reappeared in the mirror, her choppy brown hair and eyes like a broken kaleidoscope wild. "Oh my gods, no," she gasped, horrified, raising a trembling hand to the mirror. "What in Hades…?"

Jason clamped his mouth shut before opening it again. "I…"

The girl ran off again, screaming, "HE TALKED!"

When she reappeared again not 10 seconds later, she was breathing very heavily.

Jason opened his mouth. "I…"

"Stop." The girl's voice was surprisingly steady. She held one finger up, telling him to pause, while the other hand was pressed against her chest, trying to calm her breathing. "This isn't right. This definitely isn't right. Something is wrong. It's okay. Something is wrong, horribly wrong, but it's okay. It's okay. It's totally okay. I totally believe that everything is okay. Yes, I totally do."

Jason decided wisely not to comment. Instead, he decided to change the topic. "Um… Hello, nice to meet you. My name is Jason," he said in the steadiest voice he could muster and stuck out his hand.

The girl had frozen and was staring at his hand. It took Jason a whole minute to realize that they were at opposite ends of a mirror and could not touch. Flushing, he took back his hand.

"Erm…" the girl looked around the attic behind Jason. "Well, since you've introduced yourself… I might as well introduce myself. Hello Jason. My name is Piper."

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Leo knew that she was perfect. He had known before he had even seen her, when only her songs had dominated his dreams. But now, he knew with even more certainty that she was perfect.

But his painting was not.

Frustrated, Leo tore down another sheet of canvas, replacing it with another. A quick sketch, then the details… he could memorize how she looks, where every freckle was. He could remember every different color of every single strand of her hair, and he could remember every different shade of brown in her almond-shaped eyes.

Another night, another glimpse, and it was morning again.

This was how Leo had spent the past few weeks, drifting in and out of consciousness.

He felt a grin creeping up onto his face. No reason in particular, other than the fact that he's the most awesome person in the universe.

The painting was perfect.

It showed her sitting on a branch, her eyes closed, her lashes brushing her lightly freckled cheeks. Her mouth was open with a song, her hair braided over her shoulder.

She was beautiful, and she was perfect.

Leo knew that she was perfect.

But then slowly, the grin fell away again. Because this wasn't enough.

Placing a determined look onto his face, Leo cracked his knuckles, dragged out a huge chunk of marble even larger than him, and pulled out a chisel and hammer.

Time to get to work.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

When Frank opened his eyes, all he saw was black, and for a scary moment, he was afraid that he had gone blind. Then slowly, his eyes adjusted, and with a breath of relief, he began to sit up and look around to identify his location, only to fall back with a yelp when a flash of pain shot through his head.

"Oh gods…" he groaned, raising a heavy arm to rest on his forehead. Slowly, the memories began to trickle into his consciousness. The arrows; the witch; the cursed jar.

"I see you're awake," a voice said beside him. Frank lifted his arm slightly to find large golden eyes peering down at him. It was the witch. Frank just grunted in reply, too in pain to form words.

"I have questions," said the witch.

Frank grunted again.

Sighing, the witch stood up- the ruffles of her skirt told Frank that. "You should rest first. Wake up when you're better."

Frank's head agreed, and without his permission, it shut down, and the world turned black.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

When Frank opened his eyes a second time, his head was no longer pounding, though there was a residue throb that could easily be ignored.

He sat up, this time more carefully, wincing when the pain in his head flared up for a second before settling again.

The witch was bustling around the cave, humming to herself. She was young and petite, wearing a simple brown commoners dress and had her wild mane of cinnamon colored curls tamed into low ponytail. She seems to be cooking, and as Frank's five senses began to truly wake, a heavenly smell permeated the cave. It was the smell of dinner.

The witch didn't seem to have noticed that he was awake, as she continued to cook, chopping onions, stirring stew, setting the table…

She didn't look any different from the girls Frank had seen in his village, and to his horror, his determination to kill the witch began to crumble, ever so slightly.

Frank took another deep breath, savoring the wonderful scent of cooking, and right on cue, his stomach grumbled, so loud it sounded like the snoring of a bear. It also efficiently caught the witch's attention.

Her golden eyes met his own dark brown ones, and she quickly ladled a bowl with soup before coming up to him, her expression grim. Frank took the warm bowl from her awkwardly, as he could feel her slight hostility radiating from her. To not make her any angrier than she probably already was, he sipped the soup, succeeding in burning his tongue.

"You tried to kill me." The witch's voice was flat. "You shot arrows at me. And you came into my house without permission."

Frank remained silent. One, because his tongue was numb and he couldn't talk, but also mainly because he didn't know what to say.

"Who are you?" the witch asked in her flat, heavy voice.

"Erm…" Frank tried to ignore the lasting numbness of his tongue. "Frank. My name is Frank." It sounded more like, _'Fank. My nem ees Fank.'_

The witch frowned. "I'm sorry?"

Frank held up a finger, as in _'wait'_ , but his arms had been heavy, and his left hand dipped, causing soup to slosh out of the bowl and land burning onto his lap. Frank yelped in surprise and pain, mentally cursing his clumsiness.

"Oh my gods!" Hazel yelped as well. She took a rag out of her apron and handed it to Frank, then pulled the wet blanket off him. He immediately missed the warmth of the wool blanket. She took the blanket and draped it over a chair, then turned back to him, frowning.

Frank flushed. "Sorry."

The witch continued to frown. "You're quite clumsy, aren't you?"

Frank's face turned even redder.

"What is your name?"

"Frank." The numbness of his tongue had completely faded.

"What were you doing in my cave?"

"Er…" Frank wasn't sure he wanted answer, but under the witch's piercing glare, he began to tell the whole tale, making sure to leave out bits and pieces such as the encounter with the guardian of the forest.

When he finished, the witch looked shocked, horrified, and angry. "How," she spat, "am I a witch?!"

Frank had no answer.

The witch-who-wasn't-actually-a-witch sighed. "Well, there's nothing I could do about it, I guess. Though how this happened…"

She looked so dejected that Frank decided to change the topic. "You cook nice," he said, realizing that he sounded a little dumb a moment later. The girl, however, did not laugh or mock him. Instead, she smiled gently and took the bowl of soup from him. "Thank you, Frank."

She placed the bowl onto the table, still smiling somewhat sadly. Wobbly, Frank got to his feet, staggering slightly towards her. "Um… do you need help?"

The girl looked up, her exotic golden eyes bright. "Sure, why not?"

She ordered him to the counter to begin cutting carrots while she herself began grinding wheat. "Where did you come from?" she asked after a moment's silence.

"A town not far from the forest," came Frank's reply against the dull, rhythmic thudding of his knife slicing through the carrots.

"Do you have a family back there?"

The soldier hesitated for a second before answering, "My grandmother is still alive."

"What about your parents?"

Frank was beginning to regret answering her questions, but said anyway, "I never met my father, but my mother was alive until I was eight… she died," he stated the obvious.

"That's sad," the girl commented. "My mother is gone as well. I think it was her who moved here- I lived here all my life. Never stepped a foot out of the forest, never gone within a mile near the borders of the forest. Mother said the people outside are all evil and will kill me, and skin me, and eat me alive."

"That doesn't make sense," Frank said, puzzled.

"I know," sighed the girl. "But I'm not about to doubt my Mother. As you should know-,"

"Mother knows best," the two of them finished in unison and chuckled.

When they quieted down, the girl asked in a small voice, "but are the people outside really that bad?"

"No," Frank replied firmly. "Okay, some of them are quite bad, but most have good hearts, so you don't need to worry." He didn't mention the fact that she was being hunted, so even if the people outside the forest are okay, she's not going to be welcomed.

"Really?" the girl's eyes were bright. "One day, could you bring me out to see?"

"Sure." Frank was not actually sure. He doubted she'd ever be allowed to go out the forest.

"Are there other people like me?"

 _No,_ Frank wanted to say. _You're being hunted and people think you're a witch._ But he told the curious girl, "Yes, although not many are as nice as you."

"Thank you, Frank," the girl beamed at him. "Oh, and of course, where have my manners run off too? I haven't introduced myself yet!" She held out a hand. "Nice to meet you Frank. My name is Hazel. Hazel Levesque."

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Annabeth looked thoroughly amazed. "What's that?" she asked, her voice a hushed, excited whisper, pointing at a loaf of bread.

"Its bread," Percy told her.

"Bread," Annabeth repeated, as if the word was new on her tongue.

"Yes," Percy agreed. "Bread. Shouldn't you know what bread is? I mean, everybody knows what bread is!"

Annabeth just waved her hand dismissively and continued to explore the town.

"What is he doing?" she asked Percy, nodding at the butcher.

"He's butchering a pig," answered Percy, beginning to bore.

"Does pig taste good?" Annabeth asked.

"Yes. If cooked the right way. Seriously, what do you eat back in your country?" Percy tried again. Honestly, Annabeth was just strange. She didn't seem to know anything. Bread, cake… what does she eat in her hometown? Mud and feathers?

Annabeth didn't answer. Thinking back, she hadn't answered a single question Percy asked after telling him her name. It was getting quite frustrating.

"Percy?"

Percy mentally groaned when he heard Annabeth calling him.

"I've decided what I want to eat for breakfast."

Percy blinked, slightly surprised. He had been expecting another question. "Okay… what do you want to eat?"

She held something up.

"Cabbage?" Percy stared. "You want to eat cabbage for breakfast?"

Annabeth nodded solemnly.

"Annabeth," he sighed, rubbing his face tiredly, "you don't usually eat cabbages for breakfast…"

"Then what do you eat?"

"Bread… eggs…"

The strange girl shrugged. "Okay then. Where do you get those?"

Percy sighed. It's going to be a long day…

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

"How did you get to the other side of the mirror?" Jason asked. He had seated himself on a stool before the mirror. Piper had mirrored (quite literally) his actions and pulled a chair from outside the mirror's vision span.

"No idea." Piper shrugged. "Just woke up here. What about you?"

"Me?" Jason was confused for a second. "Well, I live here."

"Here?" Piper gestured at the dark, dusty attic behind him. "You've got to be kidding me. How do you live in such conditions? Where do you sleep? You must be really poor… though your clothes suggest otherwise."

"This is just the attic," Jason informed her. "I have my own room. And no, I'm not poor. At all."

"Really? How rich are you?"

"Um, very rich. Like, the richest in the kingdom."

Piper looked impressed. "Really? Even richer than the royalties?"

Jason rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well… I _am_ the royalties."

The brown haired girl gawked at him. "B-But you're too young to be the king… the Crown Prince?"

Jason shrugged.

"How do you not know whether or not you're the Crown Prince?"

"I _am_ the Crown Prince," Jason said, "though I don't particularly want to be it. All the responsibilities and whatnot- it's enough to drive someone crazy."

"I guess I understand," Piper nodded solemnly. "Not fully, but somewhat. You have the pressure and the weight of the whole kingdom in your hands. They describe them often in books."

Jason nodded. He sighed, glancing out the window at the setting sun, watching the birds in the sky, beautifully painted magenta and gold.

"What time is it?" Piper asked.

"Sunset."

Piper smiled sadly. "Me too. I mean, I don't really know, because there are no windows or doors, but the clock tells me so."

"Must be very depressing."

"Yeah," she agreed. "Nothing to do at all." Her expression softened slightly. "Before I arrived here, it was around this time when my father and I would be eating dinner. I still remember, even though it has already been around eight years. After dinner, we'd lie out in the backyard, where we had built a glass tent so we could stay there even if it's raining, and we'd watch as the stars come out. Sometimes Dad would bring a blanket, and we'd fall asleep in the glass tent, though it gets kind of cold in winter."

Jason smiled. "Your father sounds nice."

"He was," Piper confirmed. "The best father ever." Her voice cracked a little. "I don't even know if he's alive now. I'm going to spend my whole life in this room and never see him again."

Jason turned back to the mirror. "Don't worry," he said, his voice a gentle whisper. "I'll get you out."

"That's impossible."

"Nothing is impossible," he disagreed. "I'll get you out, and we'll go visit your Dad together, okay? I promise."

"You promise?" Piper's eyes shifted into a light blue. She placed a small hand on the surface of the mirror. "Really?"

"Really." Jason placed his hand over hers. "I promise."

Piper smiled tearfully, and looking at her ever-changing eyes and beautiful features, Jason could almost feel the warmth of her hand across the mirror.

And for the first time since he saw her, he was completely sure that this wasn't a dream or anything.

She was real.

 **Please Review!**


	7. Love and Secrets

**VI**

Frank soon grew to love Hazel's cooking. It was plain, simple, healthy but soothing and satisfying. The more time he spent in the cave, the more he couldn't believe that she was a witch. Hazel was so kind, so sweet and caring, not at all like the description of her when the announcement of her wanted death was posted.

But then Frank would think back to what the Protector of the Forest said, _"I am trapped… my friends are turned into monsters…"_

He still didn't understand. Why were they trapped? How? He pondered these questions every night as he stared up at the dark cave ceiling, glittering with unseen jewels. During the day time, Hazel and he chatted, about thoughts, about life, about the past.

Frank told her about his grandmother: stern and scary, but reliable in a strange way, and about his mother: kind, beautiful, generous and loving. He told her about life outside the forest, how he woke every morning to the shouts of merchants and birds chirping, how he had trained at the soldier's camp, and how he decided to embark onto this life-changing journey. The only thing he left out was about the spirit Fae, and also the mysterious Guardian of the Forest.

From Hazel Frank found out about a constricted life of soft silence and gentle loneliness. Her mother and Hazel had moved into the forest before Hazel could remember, but she knew that she had once lived outside. Her mother, a woman capable of real magic- Hazel said, fed her with horrifying tales of the outer world, where war brewed and sin painted the sky black. When she had asked her mother why they were here, she would never answer, keeping silent even after her final breath. Hazel's mother died when she was eleven, about two years ago. She had gone out to gather ingredients for dinner but never returned. Somehow, she had ended up in the bottom of the nearby cliff, bones shattered and body lifeless.

Frank was not the first person from the outside Hazel had met. There was a boy named Sammy, funny and immature, filled with jokes that don't make sense but makes you laugh anyway.

And then there was a girl. A young, beautiful girl with hair the color of molten gold- like Hazel's eyes, braided down her back with a pretty blue ribbon, along with the most unusual eye colors, always shifting and changing in the sun to match her emotions. She had appeared after Sammy moved away to a town far, far away. Hazel didn't know where she lived; she didn't even know her name, but they got along well anyway.

It was about half a year after meeting her did it happen.

Hazel and the girl were spying on her mother picking mushrooms, giggling quietly as the dark-skinned woman plucked some fungi from the wet ground. Hazel didn't even know why they were laughing.

At that moment, the girl changed. Her smile dropped, eyes darkening into a stormy gray, so dark it was black. Her hair turned bronze in the shadows that wreathed her face as an expression of pure contempt formed on her delicate features.

 _"That woman,"_ the young girl had grounded out between her teeth, her saccharine voice deepening with dark emotions. _"That woman, I hate her."_

Hazel had looked at her confusedly, brows furrowed. "Are you talking about Mother?"

The girl's eyes shifted towards Hazel, who was beginning to grow frightened. But she didn't do anything. The air was tense, frozen, even as Hazel's mother straightened up and left the clearing. Then, without saying anything, the girl spun around and left, her hair a rippling veil of gold and bronze and lingering blue, her eyes a streak of black fury. She disappeared into the trees, and that was the last time she saw both the girl and her mother.

That night, her mother didn't return to the cave, and Hazel, frightened and hungry, went to sleep in watch for her mother. When her mother hadn't returned, Hazel went searching, and after a day of seeking, she found the woven basket on the side of the cliff, mushrooms spilled over the lingering plank. When she peeked over the side of the gaping hole, she saw the silhouette of her mother's broken body, far, far away.

Sobbing, Hazel turned tail and ran, instinctively stooping to grab to basket, empty of mushrooms. She ran blindly, towards the center of the forest where the cave was. Her vision was blotted with panicked black dots, but even so, she swore she might've seen the blonde girl off on one side, smiling serenely.

It was only after she arrived home did she discover the royal blue ribbon decorating the plain, woven basket, tied around it elegantly, ending with a flourishing bow.

Frank pieced together the puzzle immediately.

That girl, judging by Hazel's description of her appearance, was definitely the Queen of the Forest. When she and her mother moved into forest, the older woman, knowing real magic, casted a spell to protect her young daughter and her, which also trapped the divine being in one fixed form and mutated her friends. In her anger and malice, the Guardian of the Forest pushed Hazel's mother down the cliff, thinking it would break the spell.

She was unsuccessful, and soon realized that to break the spell, she didn't need to kill Marie Levesque.

It was Hazel keeping the spell alive.

But why didn't she kill Hazel herself? After long nights of pondering, Frank came up with only one explanation: in the period of being her friend, the Guardian of the Forest had grown fond of the real witch's child, so she couldn't lift her hand to do the dirty work.

She had manipulated Frank to kill Hazel.

He would rather kill himself.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

When Percy woke, it was still dark. The moon had been covered by a layer of misty clouds, and the blinking stars were too far away to offer much light.

But even through the darkness, Percy could see that Annabeth's bed was empty. Or, at least, his bed was empty, since he was sleeping on a cot on the hard floor, sacrificing his bed to the mysterious guest from the sea.

Yawning and grumbling, Percy climbed to his feet, trying to smooth the crinkles of his shirt while stumbling towards the door. When he stubbed his toe on a book, he cursed colorfully. Speaking of which, how did a _book_ land in the house of Percy Jackson?

Limping slightly, he threw on his worn-out shoes and staggered out the door. The moment he stepped out, soft singing filled the air, coming from the ocean. Percy began to head towards the glittering sea, dark as the night sky, the peaks reflecting the twinkle of stars.

The singing grew louder and more beautiful as he neared the ocean. It was a soft, gentle song, like the ones Percy's mother used to sing for him before he slept.

Percy stepped over the horizon, and the unending picture of the ocean stretched out before him. On the shore, sitting on a rock, feet dipping into the silver waters, was Annabeth, her golden hair silver in the darkness. The song was emerging from her mouth, lulling, mesmerizing, like the songs of a siren, or a mermaid.

The distant singing lured the moon from behind its veil of clouds, shining brightly onto the mirroring ocean, weaving white into the silver of Annabeth's loose curls.

Percy stepped forward quietly, intrigued by the image, but unwilling to join it and possibly destroy it.

So he continued to watch Annabeth's song as it traveled over the waters and to the depths of the sea.

Then another voice joined hers.

It came from the shining waters, bubbling to the surface, erupting into the open air, joining the beat of the ocean spray.

From the sea a figure emerged- a girl with dark hair, weaved elegantly with pearls. She showed only to the curves of her shoulders, but immediately, Percy received a sneaking suspicion of who the newcomer might be. Or, to rephrase the question, what she might be.

The song ended in a low note, sad and lonely.

There was a moment's silence after the finale of the lullaby. Then, the dark-haired girl spoke.

"Annabeth, you do know that time's almost up, right?"

"I know, Katie," Annabeth replied with a sigh. "I know this full well."

"Four weeks, that was the deal," Katie, the newcomer reminded anyway.

Annabeth didn't answer. She didn't nod either, just stared out over the stretch of water before her and sighed once more. Slowly, she got to her feet.

"I should be getting back," she said, turning away from her home, "before the sun rises."

Percy turned as well and made his way back towards his small cottage, his footsteps quick but soft.

Annabeth had four weeks.

Two had passed.

In another two, she will have to return.

But to where? A small voice asked in Percy's mind.

To the sea, he answered.

Annabeth was a mermaid.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Piper turned out to be quite awesome.

She wasn't at all delicate and flimsy like those foreign princesses Jason's father had wanted him to court. She was a strong, proud character, a woman who could stand on her own two feet.

Her words were powerful, determined, like a queen's demand, so much in the fact that when Piper jokingly told him to jump out the window, he almost did it.

She was beautiful too, but her features were of a real beauty, reflecting her soul. Her hair, though long, was choppy at the ends, two small, messy braids on each side of her head. Her eyes were like a broken kaleidoscope, constantly shifting colors to match her setting and emotions. She had a tanned complexion, despite not having been outdoors since she was eight. Usually tanned complexions were not approved, but it fits Piper, fits her elegance and her strength, so Jason had no complaints.

The Crowned Prince was intrigued by this girl on the other side of the mirror. She was a puzzle by herself, a mystery with her story.

Day after day, whenever he had the time, Jason would climb up the tower of four hundred stairs, and sit before Piper, their voices the only sounds in their world.

It was in this dusty attic where Jason could finally relax, putting aside his burdens, even if it was only for a little while.

They never talked about the promise, but it was there, leaving a lingering scent of satisfaction, but also urgency, as the two of them slowly grew inseparable despite being separated by Jason's duties and the thin mirror.

It was a world of only him and her, where all masks could be put aside so they could soar away, even if it was only for a little while.

If only this world never shatters.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

When morning arrived, Annabeth immediately confirmed that something must have happened overnight. Percy's movements were stiff, his eyes glazed over, and he answered all her questions with 'yeah's and 'uh huh's, even questions of whether or not he was okay.

Annabeth just couldn't tell what was causing him to act to strangely. Last night before they went to sleep, he was just fine. What if last night…

Annabeth shook her head. It's not possible.

But after a few days had passed, and still Percy remained distant, Annabeth finally snapped.

"What is wrong with you?" she demanded to know. "The past few days you've acted as if I didn't exist! What, trapped in your own, little world? What in Olympus had happened to you?!"

Percy blinked, his sea-green eyes clearing, then lowering to the ground to stare at his feet. He rubbed his face with his hand, sighing and shrugging slightly. "Annabeth…" he finally spoke. "It's… well, it's complicated…"

"Complicated?!" the blonde was really getting pissed. "Complicated?!" she repeated, her voice rising with each word, "Whatever your life is, it's anything but complicated! Do you think I won't be able to understand whatever you say?! Do you think I'm stupid?! So, complicated?! Complicated my ass, you complete Kelp Head! Spit it out." She was breathing heavily by the end of her rant. Perhaps it was a little harsh, but she was really getting peeved.

"Annabeth…" Percy tried again. "You won't understand…"

She slapped him. The sound echoed through the small cottage, and she regretted it immediately, but she didn't apologize. He didn't deserve her apology.

"I won't understand?" Annabeth's voice was a deadly whisper. Percy's eyes were still glued to the ground, his head hung low like a chastised child. "What is it that I won't understand? I can decide myself whether or not I can understand, thank you very much. Are you me? Do you know me better than myself? Am I an idiot?"

Percy shook his head.

"Then why is it that you won't tell m-,"

Annabeth's sentence was cut off when Percy slammed his lips into hers.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

For nights afterwards, Frank was bothered by the Guardian of the Forest's plan. She was willing to exchange any wish for the life of 'the witch', even if it was a wish to destroy the world.

He did not know the extent of her power, so he doesn't know where to step. Was she watching his every movement right now? If he was proven useless would she kill him?

Mobs of questions bombarded his brain, preventing sleep from coming easily, causing him to be extremely tired during the day.

Then one day…

"Frank, let's go pick mushrooms!" Hazel held up the worn woven basket, the blue ribbon still tied around its stomach. The brave soldier, though weary as he was, agreed, and the two of them left on their way.

Mushrooms grow more commonly around damp places, so they started towards the nearby stream, chatting happily along the way.

Due to the recent rain and their proximity to a mountain, the stream had grown into a full-scale river, swirling down the hill, the currents fast and fatal. Picking mushrooms would be especially difficult today.

Hazel and Frank were careful, avoiding slippery surfaces and staying in grabbing distance of each other, though Frank was sure that if he slipped, Hazel would just be pulled down with him. What a depressing thought.

"Oh look!" Hazel pointed upstream. On a rotting branch stuck a little into the river was a group of mushrooms, large and tasty-looking. Hazel bounded towards it, Frank close on her heels.

"Okay," Hazel took a deep breath, looking determined, "this is going to be difficult, but I'll try my best."

She began inching into the river, slowly, fighting against the current.

And then she suddenly went under.

Frank panicked at that moment. He rushed downstream, where Hazel poked her head out of the water, gasping for breath, trying to swim towards the shore. But the current pushed her small form away as if purposely trying to play with her.

Finally, desperate, Frank lunged into the river, his bulk momentarily blocking the flow, and grabbed Hazel's arm. Then struggling, his muscles straining, Frank managed to claw a handful of dirt from the shore and drag the both of them to safety, soaking wet and shivering violently.

Hazel sniffed from the cold and looked up at Frank, her eyes wide with still a trace of fear. "Thank you for saving me," she said quietly, then swiftly added a quick kiss on his cheek, standing on tiptoes.

Frank was momentarily shocked, color slowly creeping into his cheeks before he cautiously bent his head to catch her lips with his.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

 _Her lips were soft,_

 _And sweet like honey,_

 _Salty like hidden tears and glittering seas._

 _Her lashes brushed her cheeks, dark and feathery._

 _Her eyes were wide, stormy and swirling._

 _Then they closed, softly, as_

 _She leaned into the kiss._

 _He felt like he was floating,_

 _Soaring over mountains like an eagle,_

 _Swimming through waters like a fish._

 _He smiled, her name lingering on his lips. He knew_

 _Whether it be death,_

 _Whether it be time,_

 _It was only her, and him,_

 _and nothing can stop them._

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Leo was in thought. Deep, deep thoughts, so please do not disturb. Festus, a happy, mechanical dragon Leo had built in his spare time creaked and groaned in a series of jaw work and swirling teeth.

"Shut up!" the Latino boy snapped. Festus refuse and continued to creak and squeak, even more urgently than before.

"Damn it!" Leo finally threw his hands up in defeat. "What is it, you stupid dragon?"

Festus creaked angrily before adding another series of squeaks in a calmer tone.

It did not help.

"It's not good enough!" Leo groaned, pulling fistfuls of his curly black hair and falling face-first onto his bed.

 _Creak?_

With one hand Leo gestured to the side, where a life-size statue stood elegantly. It was of a girl, so detailed and lifelike that if it wasn't for her colorless form, one might've thought her to be alive.

If only she was alive.


	8. Shattered and Broken

**VII**

Very stupidly, Jason risked skipping another lesson to visit Piper. What? It was Algebra; he had every right to skip it.

He had thought that the bad feeling prickling his spine was caused by his strict father, the king, and his long lectures. He wished it was.

As usual, he and Piper had struck up on a conversation the moment he sat down: a rather enjoyable exchange about seeing glasses.

"I think I might need some soon," Jason admitted. "It's getting harder to see some stuff."

"That's rather unfortunate," Piper commented, frowning slightly. "I heard they were rather bothersome to get. You have to do a bunch of tests and everything."

Jason agreed. "It's true. And they take forever to make."

"And you have to wear them all the time."

"It also makes it troublesome to exercise sometimes."

"They'd make you look ugly as well."

Jason fell silent, then spoke up after some pondering, "I wonder if it'd be possible for me to get a pair of glasses that doesn't make me look stupid."

Piper rested her chin on one knee as she wondered as well and for a moment, the attic was silent. Jason thought he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, but dismissed it when he focused and discovered nothing.

"Gold," the brown-skinned girl spoke suddenly. "I think gold would fit you. It's bright like your eyes, but it's also a similar color to your hair." Then she flushed. "T-That's just my opinion- I'm not sure, actually."

"Gold-rimmed glasses don't sound too bad. We could afford it, that's for sure." Jason's eyes were focused more on the creeping blush on Piper's cheeks.

"Yes, perhaps we'll get you gold-rimmed glasses, son." Jason shot up from his seat and spun around to see the attic door swing open, revealing his father, large and intimidating, and his stepmother, cold and unyielding, along with a couple of guards at attention behind them. "Now will you please explain why you are talking to a mirror?"

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Percy felt like he had never been happier in his life. But behind the layer of happiness was the growing sense of dread, fear, and sadness.

There was only one week left.

Annabeth had grown to become an important aspect in his life, somebody he couldn't imagine living without. He couldn't imagine not waking up to the beautiful gray eyes every morning, couldn't imagine not feeling those golden curls between his fingers or hearing her clear laugh.

She must have noticed Percy's worries, because one morning, his eyes cracked open to find, as usual, Annabeth's stormy gray examining him softly, except this time, her brows were furrowed slightly in a vague expression of confusion. Percy yawned and stretched, weaving his fingers into Annabeth's silky hair. He pulled her into a slow kiss, but she separated too quickly for his liking.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly, "You seem a bit out of it these days." Her tone explained that it wasn't the empty blankness that had hollowed him after seeing her by the sea.

Percy didn't answer, instead snuggling closer to her.

"Percy?" Annabeth sounded slightly worried.

"How much longer?" he murmured into her hair.

"What?"

"How much longer will you stay here with me?" Percy asked again, even though he knew the answer.

This time, it was Annabeth who was silent. After a long moment of hesitation, she spoke. "You saw something, didn't you?"

"Maybe." A vague answer to reply an unwanted answer.

"How much did you see? What do you know?" Percy blinked. If he didn't know better, he would've thought there was a panicked edge to Annabeth's voice.

"I'm not sure," Percy admitted. "I don't know. I don't understand most of it. But that night… There was a girl in the water. And you two were talking. It's just- I don't…" Percy trailed off with a sigh.

"But I do know," he continued quietly before Annabeth could open her mouth, "you don't belong here, do you?" Annabeth's eyes were piercing and soft at the same time, hiding the pain behind a wall of storms and clouds. "You belong in the place I love the most. You belong in the sea."

Annabeth sat up from the bed they now shared, and Percy mirrored her actions, staring concernedly at her. She left the warmth of the blankets, padding out the cottage, down the dirt path, still barefooted. Percy scrambled after her.

"I belong in the sea," Annabeth repeated as the ocean rippled before them, a mirror for the sunrise. "I belong in the place I hate the most. I hate the ocean. I hate how I'm trapped in there. Four weeks was the longest I could bargain without losing anything. Any longer could be fatal."

Percy couldn't breathe. "So it's true. It's all true. You are a-,"

Annabeth covered his mouth. "Don't say it. It'll just make me leave faster."

He understood and fell silent, then took her hand and pulled her down the beach. The water lapped peacefully around their ankles, gobbling up their footprints in the wet sand. Percy squatted down, not minding the fact that his pants became wet with seawater, and with a finger, wrote in his messy handwriting: _You are a mermaid._

It was not a question.

Annabeth's reply was a lingering kiss. She whispered to his lips, "You have to come and visit in the future. Promise me. Every day."

Percy hugged her closer to his chest. "I promise."

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

It was completely out of the blue.

Just as Frank felt like he could get a peaceful night of sleep, Hazel asked the question he had been dreading for some time.

"When will you take me out the forest?"

It had been a warm, sunny day, and the two of them were cheerfully hanging up laundry when the question popped up. In Frank's opinion, it ruined a perfectly nice day, though he couldn't blame the young girl.

Frank didn't know how to answer. He understood how much Hazel looked forward to it, but he also knew how dangerous it was for her. If they were to leave the relative safety of the forest, she'd have to be constantly disguised. However, with her unique golden eyes, keeping her concealed would be difficult.

So in the end, all he could say was, "Soon. When everything is ready."

He doubted it'd be soon.

But seeing the joy on her face made everything ever the harder.

Finally, two days later, Frank took a deep breath, steeled himself and announced, "Hazel, we're leaving."

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Jason was in shock as the soldiers carried the mirror out of sight, tearing Piper away from him as well. Piper, who was unable to do anything as their haven was shattered.

When he jerked out of his daze, the mirror was already gone from the tower, and his father was dragging him down the flight of stairs. They arrived at Jason's room, where the King threw him onto the floor and exploded on him. His stepmother stood on the side, watching everything with cruel satisfaction.

None of his father's words registered in his mind- all he could think of was Piper. Where was she? Is she okay? What's going to happen to her?

After a long while, the King left, his beautiful wife trailing after him, leaving Jason still kneeling on the carpeted floor, mind reaching for the mirror and the beautiful girl trapped inside it.

As his father was about to close and lock the door behind him, Jason blurted out a question. "What are you going to do to it?"

The king's gaze was colder than ice, his tone even colder as he answered, "Such object is obviously dark magic. It will be destroyed."

And Jason thought he couldn't take it anymore. He had never felt such despair.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

They packed quickly: there wasn't much to bring. Frank didn't have much when he arrived in the first place, and Hazel doesn't have that many necessities either. After a good night's sleep (in this case, only for Hazel), they were on their way.

The forest was silent, the only sounds being distant bird songs and the crunch of leaves underfoot. Frank knew the journey was long, and he informed Hazel of that, so they decided to travel in a medium pace to avoid exhaustion and the possible lack of resources.

After a long day of walking, chatting, and laughing, Hazel and Frank began to build a small camp at a clearing to spend the night. The sun was setting, and Frank volunteered to get some firewood as quickly as he could. He scoured the area, gathering as much sticks as he could for the hungry fire.

Left of him, he heard a crack, the sound of a twig breaking under somebody's foot. Frank tensed, eyes darting from side to side, but the shadows were growing longer and darker: he could see nothing. His breathing was shallow, guarded. Frank almost dropped the sticks when another branch cracked.

From the shadows emerged a figure- a girl, her golden curls dark bronze in the darkness. Her ever-changing eyes had settled in a cold blue, as icy as her expression, which was a mixture between silent fury and cold hatred.

Frank and the Queen of the forest gazed at each other, neither of them moving. Finally, the girl spun around and left, not saying a word, allowing the shadows to embrace her once more.

Frank stared at the place where she disappeared for a long while, but jerked out of his tense daze when Hazel called his name. He stumbled back to the clearing, sticks tumbling out of his arms clumsily, and tried to act as if nothing had happened.

But he knew.

Though the Queen had not said anything, he understood her message very clearly: _If any of you take one step out the forest, I will personally prepare your graves._


	9. Emotions and Windows

**VIII**

A year ago, he might've laughed.

Jason was the Crown Prince, one of the most powerful people in the empire. How is it possible for him to be groveling on his knees and begging, pleading to his father, the one person with full power over him, to let him see Piper just one last time?

Fully possible, considering that it's the exact thing he's doing right now.

No matter how much he protested, how much he argued, the King and Queen remain convinced that the mirror was dark magic, that _Piper_ was dark magic. Jason's temper was on a tight leash, all the more eager to explode as he was trapped under the unforgiving decision of his father. If one more person calls her something from his imagination or magic…

"How many times do I need to tell you?" the King demanded, impatient. "What you saw was the works of the devil. It is very dangerous. Obviously, the witch inside has already bewitched you with her magic. Do you think I would permit you to see her again when I saw what she could do?"

"What she could do?" Jason was incredulous. "She can't do anything other than sit there! She's been trapped in there for _eight years_! If she's able to do something, she wouldn't be in that mirror!" His blood was roaring in his ears, and he forced himself to stalk out before he could get to the more disrespectful part of his rant.

As Jason strode through the hallways and stalked up the stairs towards his chamber, a small, selfish and wicked part of him was glad that Piper wasn't able to do anything. Glad that she had been trapped and miserable for such a long time. Because if that hadn't happened, he would never have met her, she would not have found joy in his presence, and vice versa.

He hated himself for it.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Frank didn't know what to do. Hazel was looking forward to leave, but the Queen made it very clear that her death was necessary. A few more days and they'd be out, but…

In the dead of the night, as he laid awake on the grass with his pack as a pillow, Hazel snuggled up on his side, he saw the distant glow of spirit Fae hidden among the trees, watching, spying. There was the gleam of the eyes of the Queen's beastly friends, and it was only after first light arrived did he finally fall into an uneasy slumber.

His dreams were filled with warmth and shadows and screams, and falling tears and gusts of wind so powerful they threatened to blow him off his feet. They were filled with singing and mirrors and sunsets, and canvases and colors and the echo of the sea. Golden eyes peered down at him, large and unforgiving. Fire flickered in her gaze.

 _"You promised,"_ an invisible mouth whispered. The two words echoed through the dark chamber of his mind.

 _'You promised.'_

They grew louder and louder, until it was a chant, pounding through his head. Dozens of golden eyes peered from the darkness, cold, furious. The chant never ceased.

What did he promise? He couldn't remember. Not as Hazel stepped up to him, eyes void but expression filled with malice, and whispered, _"You promised."_

"I didn't," he began to protest. "I didn't promise you anything."

"Oh, but you did." Behind Hazel, another person stepped up behind her. The Queen of the forest. "You promised."

Her expression was filled with wicked glee. "You made a promise you know you could not fulfill."

Frank's blood has frozen.

"You're afraid," the Queen of the forest continued as she slung her arms over the motionless Hazel's shoulders, hugging her from behind and caressing her cheek with one hand. "You are afraid to disappoint her. But you mustn't worry." Her hand trailed down Hazel's jaw-line and closed around her slender throat. "I gave you a choice. One task, and your wish will be fulfilled. I do not break my promises," her smile widened, "unlike you."

 _My wish is to be with Hazel,_ Frank wanted to shout. _There is nothing else._

"I am not selfish," the Queen said. "I will grant your wish, not for the sake of myself, as her mother had so greedily done when she granted that wish of that poor, wandering girl whose mind had been befuddled by ire. I will grant you a wish for the sake of my forest. There are many people relying on the forest, Frank, and it will be your fault if they lost their lumber, or their prey. It's just one person, my warrior." Her slender fingers tightened around Hazel's neck, and Frank knew that it was going to bruise, or maybe even worse. "One person, one defenseless girl. You can do it."

The Queen let go, and Hazel slumped to the ground, unmoving, eyes empty, the ring of bruises around her neck uglier than anything Frank has ever seen.

 _It's just one person._

Frank woke. He was drenched in sweat, and his chest was tight, breaths shallow and quick.

For a moment, the only sound was the blood roaring in his ears before his heartbeats slowly settled and the songs of birds and insects penetrated through that panicked barrier to reach his senses.

But to his horror, along with those soothing forest voices, came the voices of humans. They spoke of hunts, and of gold, and of the witch whose eyes were like their awaiting prizes.

Frank's eyes widened, and his hand shot out to grab Hazel, who had rolled away from him during their sleep.

He knew those voices, and he understood their conversation.

Hunters.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

She deserved it.

Calypso knew that she deserved the darkness, the isolation.

Light was beginning to pierce through the darkness, patches of sunshine that drove away the shadows and coaxed more songs from her, light that punctured holes into her prison. And with the light, came memories.

She finally remembered. There had been fire and death, devastations caused by war. Blood had painted everything, and even the morning mist had been crimson. Screams had become music, and corpses had piled high to blot out even the sun. It was a world for scavengers, and it had existed dozens of hundreds of years ago.

And there she was, standing atop the field of carrion, face revealing nothing but bored ignorance as she watched the rest of her family cut down the final survivors.

The silence after the final scream's final echo must have triggered something. The emptiness of the air must have grasped the attention of the gods- beings people have already worshipped for hundreds of years, and will continue to be worshipped centuries after. The skies had opened for them, and Calypso remembered how the light had blinded her.

The gods had arrived, magnificent and holy. Their lips moved, but Calypso could not hear them. Not when her own breathing and her heartbeats filled her hearing and her surroundings faded away into darkness.

She had been here ever since.

The memories were still vague, still missing many things, Calypso knew, and she was glad. She dreaded the day everything would appear. She didn't even know _why_ these despicable memories were appearing again. Perhaps it was another punishment from the gods, to remind her once more of her heinous actions.

Sighing, Calypso leaned back against an unseen wall.

She stretched out a hand towards the light, savoring the warmth as it caressed her skin. She couldn't help but marvel at how pale her once-tanned skin had become.

It looks as if she was carved from a marble statue.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Leo stared at the marble statue before him. In the sunset, she looked more realistic than ever, while her pale skin glowed gold. Festus gave a whirl of creaks on his worktable, but Leo didn't heed him. He couldn't stop staring.

"What is your name?" he murmured. "I don't even know your name."

She didn't reply. Of course she wouldn't.

Leo stared at her colorless lips, tilted into a gentle smile, and at her downcast eyes, giving her an almost abashed look. Her simple dress flowed in an invisible wind, and one hand was placed on her chest, as if she was feeling her own heartbeat.

Sighing, the curly-haired boy leaned forward to place a hand over hers, as if he could feel her heart beating as well.

To his utter shock and amazement, her hand was warm.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

When Calypso drew her hand away from the patch of light, she couldn't help but shiver and clutched her warm hand to her cold chest, her heart beating faintly under her hand, as if it was beating from far, far away.

It was so cold here in the darkness, so unbearably cold.

Once again, she reached for the brightness. The light warmed her cold skin, and she allowed it to wash over her, moving to let every inch of her body feel a little of the warmth.

This, she reminded herself, was why she didn't give up. Why she never stopped singing. She knew there's a better world out there, even if its memories were hazy. The light- the _sunlight_ \- is only a tip of it.

She raised her head to peer up at the hole in the darkness that allowed the light to pierce through, squinting. And through the white, she could almost see something: colors, vague and blurry, but if she was to guess, it was a small cottage, not unlike those she had helped burn down so many years ago.

Then, something moved into the picture.

No, _somebody_.

It was a boy, and so painstakingly, obviously human.

He was staring at her. Straight at her.

For a moment that dragged, all was silent. Then, his mouth opened, and he asked, "What is your name? I don't even know your name."

He spoke as if he knew her.

Calypso furrowed her brows. "Do I know you?"

The boy didn't answer. Instead, he said, "Ever since I saw you in my dreams, ever since your voice lured me into your dark home, I've wanted to know you. What is your name?"

Never in her whole life had she seen this boy, but she answered anyway. "My name is Calypso. What is yours?"

Once again, he didn't answer, just sighed and turned away. For the first time since this strange dialogue had started, it occurred to Calypso that he might not be able to hear her.

And she couldn't help but feel incredibly, painfully lonely.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Leo didn't expect her to answer. After all, how could a marble statue speak?

But then, from somewhere seemingly far, far away, he heard a voice, carried only to his ears only through the wind. It was a soft voice, feminine and sad, lonely. It was a voice he knew well.

And she said, "My name is Calypso."

The next breath of wind brought her question. "What is yours?"

Leo spun around to face the statue again, his masterpiece. "Leo," he breathed. "My name is Leo."

He could see her smile as she said, "You say you know me."

"I do." It is the undeniable truth.

"If you do…" the wind trailed away.

Then, the words repeated. "If you do… save me. Please."

Leo understood. The darkness was not her home. It was her prison.

"How?" he asked.

She didn't answer.

She didn't answer until a long time later.

Night had fallen, and still Leo could not stop staring at the marble statue of the girl- Calypso, he reminded himself. Finally, he tore his sore eyes away and flopped down on his bed. There's nothing more that he could do, other than wait.

Then, in the night, accompanied with the twinkle of stars and the chirps of crickets, Calypso told him, "Recently, light began to invade the darkness that had surrounded me. If what you have told me is true, it might have been caused by you. I could see the world through the light, as if I'm looking through a window. Will you be able to make the window bigger? Big enough that I could open it and return?"

Leo didn't know how, but he told her, "I can, and I will."

"Thank you." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it was filled with a joy and gratitude that made Leo's heart swell.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Calypso had never been as bold and daring as when she asked Leo to save her. He was a human boy, but somehow he had found his way to her. Leo wasn't charming or handsome, in fact, he was quite plain, but his determination was what drawn Calypso to him. He obviously didn't know how to free her, and yet he had promised to.

Calypso smiled. She knew the boy was in love with her, she could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. But they've barely spoken, barely met, and it was all a coincidence that he-

"For once, you're not singing."

Calypso jolted and stepped out from the patch of light, spinning around. And there, a few meters away from her, was Leo, grinning widely.

She forced a smile through her shock. "Hi Leo."

"So you _can_ see me. You just never noticed it before."

"It was too dark to notice," Calypso blushed. The thought of someone being able to see her while she can't see them was strange and slightly unsettling.

And that was the beginning of the end.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Piper threw the white cloth over the mirror once more. It was only now did it occur to her that the mirror wasn't a mirror, but more like a window. A window to another world. The cloth draped over the looking glass, as if she's able to cover her looming dread with the cloth.

She had heard their conversation, about how they were going to destroy the mirror that 'she lives in'. If they were correct about her location, what would happen to her when they destroy the mirror? Would she be torn down as well? Would only her window and hope to a free world disappear to leave her forever in this room? Neither of the choices sounds appealing.

Sighing, Piper leaned back against her arm chair, slightly trembling hands bringing the cup of tea to her lips and sipping absentmindedly. Her thoughts had finally settled, but not on a topic comfortable for her. The golden-haired prince… her heart ached just thinking about him. What had happened to Jason? Last time she saw him, he was staring horrorstruck at the entrance of the attic, his eyes, those eyes the color of the fastest lightning, wider than she thought possible. The fear in his eyes did not fit well with the composed prince she had grown to know so well.

She set the cup back onto the saucer and stood up slowly, smoothing out her dress with her clammy hands. Piper cautiously lifted the edge of the cloth draped over the mirror, only to find herself met with black- they had decided to cover the mirror as well. She placed a hand on the cool surface, watched the heat of her hands steam the glass. She couldn't help but remember Jason's hand pressed across of hers, his gentle smile as he promised to free her.

Piper shook her head slightly. Whatever happens, Piper doubted that she'd see Jason again. She let the cloth drop from her hand, and then flung herself onto her bed, staring up at the chandelier, forever glittering.

Piper covered her eyes with an arm, but the brightness was seared into her eyelids.

She hated the chandelier. She always had.

The light reflecting off its crystals onto the walls constantly reminded to the stars she had seen eight years ago and never again. She remembered the day before the world she knew disappeared. She remembered how the myriad of stars above her had frozen, how blood began to seep into the moon.

Her father was an actor, and a successful one at that. Their manor house had been beautiful, grand, surrounded by rose hedges and wonderful creeping vines that decorated the sides of their pearly white walls. There was a sweeping staircase behind the large crystal front doors, and she remembered that she liked to slide down its railing. The beautiful French windows were usually open in the warmer seasons, the white gossamer curtains fluttering in the soothing breeze. But however fine her living quarters were, Piper had hated staying inside, accompanied by silent and servile maids and a cold, empty ambience. Her beloved father was never there, always traveling, and when he was present, his demeanor was distracted, like something was pulling him away from her.

In the end, it was her who severed the thinning bond first. It wasn't like she did it on purpose, but that day when she stormed off in tears and rode on her favorite pony- the one her father had given her for her birthday- into the forest, her mind was so clouded with temper that she hadn't been thinking straight. It was that untamed anger that damned her as the golden-eyed lady asked for her biggest wish.

To escape; to be whisked away into another world, a peaceful world, where she doesn't have to meet with her aloof father. She wants to go away to a place where people wouldn't stare wide-eyed at her as she strolled down the street in her pretty dresses, wouldn't whisper behind her, _"Tristan McLean's daughter… I expected more."_

The witch granted her the wish, after taking her golden necklace and bracelets, along with a few coins in the bottom of her petticoat pocket. A slight blink later, she was in this room, in another world connected to the original one only through a mirror.

It was only after the shock resided and the loneliness crept up to her did the tears begin to fall.

It was a day she had tucked away in the back of her mind, content to forget, content to believe that she was innocent and had been clueless about the reason she was here, that it was her fault.

Piper lifted her arm, but did not see. All she could see was the foreign prince that had come to save her: an impossible mission.

Once again, the tears fell.


	10. The Ends

**IX**

Leo didn't know how long he slept. He didn't care. All he cared about was the girl before him, hidden partially by the darkness. All he knew was that she was there, in front of him, and for the first time, they were speaking to each face to face.

Their conversation was… awkward. It was consisted mostly of um's and er's and awkward silence. As much as Leo tried to brighten the mood, it was the hardest thing he had ever done.

Then, Calypso sighed quietly and asked, "What do you usually do in your spare time?" just as an attempt to start a real conversation. Leo, also eager to get rid of the silence, answered, and told her about what he did for a living, about what he had done to make her real. He had felt the heat creeping up his neck as he said it, but continued nevertheless.

"How is the world outside now?" was Calypso's next question, and Leo answered. He told her about everything he had managed to hear, about all the gossip and whatnot. Calypso was content to just listen.

Slowly, the atmosphere grew more relaxed, more comfortable. Calypso began to laugh more freely as Leo told his stories, and his voice became louder and more confident as time passed. Calypso seemed to have an endless well of questions, each more eagerly asked than the last.

Finally, when a silence fell, Leo found himself smiling to Calypso, whose almond shaped eyes were bright with laughter. He didn't even realize he was staring until she frowned lightly and asked, "What?"

"You're beautiful," he blurted out, then blushed a brilliant red. "Erm…"

To his surprise, Calypso laughed. She began to laugh and continued until her face was flushed and she had doubled over, struggling for breath.

Now it was Leo's turn to frown. "What?"

Calypso shook her head, still giggling.

Slowly, Leo's frown faded, and he found himself smiling as well, bashfully and still bright red.

With a long sigh, Calypso finally calmed down, though a wide smile remained on her features. She wiped her eyes and said between pants, "You are the weirdest, most random person I have ever met."

He shrugged.

She glanced up at the holes in the darkness, squinting slightly, and said, "You should be getting back. It's almost morning."

Leo sighed. "I don't want to go back."

"And I don't want you to go back." Calypso smiled sadly at him. "It's okay. You can visit the next night."

Leo nodded vaguely, but before he could will his essence to return to the world his physical body laid, Calypso grabbed his hand and pressed her mouth to his.

And the world around them shattered into the light.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

She knew it was time the moment she opened her eyes.

Today was the day they were going to destroy the mirror.

Piper couldn't help but wonder whether or not Jason would be there at her 'execution', and once again, she allowed the questions of the future to pass through her mind. She still has utterly no idea what might happen to her.

She closed her eyes. There was nothing else she could do.

She didn't know how long she lay there, but then a loud sound punched through her blank daze and brought her back to reality.

It was the sound of cheering.

Piper flung herself off the bed and peeked through mirror, taking care to not make it obvious that she had lifted a side of the cloth. She was obviously being carried- the world's shaking was enough to tell her that, and there were enough people in the arena to show that the word of her mirror had spread quickly. Then something caught her eye.

He sat on the dais, seated right to his father, the king. Jason's expression was grim and strained, pale and nervous. His electric blue eyes kept flitting from her mirror to his hands, clenched on his lap. As if he was hoping to see her one more time, or as if he was afraid to look.

Piper was glad she wasn't the only one.

Whoever that had been carrying her grunted and set her onto the ground, facing the royal family.

Then, the king began to speak.

"Witch!" he bellowed, "Show yourself!"

Piper didn't appreciate being called 'witch'. Nor did she want to show herself.

For a long moment, the entire arena was silent.

Then, Piper flung off the white cloth and stepped into view, arms crossed defiantly despite the fact that she was trembling inside. _'Well, you only live once, I guess.'_

"What do you want?" she snapped. Her memories of her father's plays helped her act. "I just woke up, you know?!"

The arena was still silent, but this time with shock, not anticipation. Even Jason was staring at her with his jaws hanging.

"So you finally decided to show up," the king had the nerve to look smug. "Took you long enough, you self-serving bitch."

"Self-serving?" Piper spat. "The only self-serving pig in this entire place is you."

Gasps echoed around the arena.

The king's facial color had turned a satisfying magenta. "How dare-," he spluttered, then took a deep breath to compose himself. He waved a hand. "Do it."

The air grew tense once more, and Piper's stomach began to churn even more violently than before, which she didn't think was possible. It gave an especially violent lurch when her executioner came into view, a large hammer that must've weighed a ton in his hand.

Jason's face had paled. Piper hated how he looked so nervous and guilty. It was not an expression that fitted him.

As the executioner began to near the mirror, Piper locked eyes with the Crown Prince. None of them looked away.

She pressed her palms against the cool glass of the mirror, still keeping eye contact with him.

 _'Jason,'_ she mouthed, and smiled lightly, as if he was just leaving the attic and was going to come back the next day. _'I'll miss you.'_ She pushed away from the mirror, squeezing her eyes close.

The executioner raised the large hammer.

"Goodbye, Jason," she whispered.

 _"Stop!"_

Piper's eyes snapped open as the executioner stumbled back, dragged by the heavy implement in his hands.

And there he was.

Jason was rushing down from the dais, looking determined. He swung himself over the railing and onto the platform, pushing the executioner aside and stepping in front of the mirror. He threw his arms out and planted his feet onto the ground. "If you are going to destroy this mirror," he declared, "You'd have to kill me first."

The king's face was white with fury.

 _What an interesting array of colors_ , a small part of Piper's brain noted. _An artist can paint a full canvas with all of them!_

"Prince!" he shouted, rising from his throne. "Get back here right now! You are not to defend the witch!"

Mutterings had also risen from the crowd.

 _'So it's true, the rumors…'_

 _'How queer…'_

Jason didn't budge.

"Jason," Piper said, a hint of pleading in her voice. "Jason, don't. You're in enough trouble already. Please, Jason, just go back."

"No," Jason's voice was low, "If I do, I will regret it for the rest of my life, and I'd rather die than spend the rest of my days in guilt."

A hurricane of emotions swirled inside her, threatening to drown her. Tears filled her eyes, a few escaping and spilling down her cheeks.

"Why…?" she managed to get out. The single word was said in such a weak voice that she wasn't sure he heard her.

A moment of silence, then, "Because you are the most unique person in my life. And somehow, in some way or another, you've managed to become the most important person in my life. I do not wish you to die. I wish to see you again tomorrow." He threw a smile over his shoulder, then turned back to the murmuring crowds.

"Jason," she murmured.

"Jason," she repeated, a little louder. When Jason still showed no signs of hearing her, she rose and slammed her fist into the mirror.

"Damn it, Jason, look at me!"

Startled, he spun around to face Piper. He noticed her eyes, lined with silver, and how her knuckles were white as she clenched her fists against the mirror. Their eyes met, and the entire world froze.

Piper blinked, and a tear escaped, splattering onto the ground. Jason placed a hand across of her clenched one, as if he could calm her down.

"Piper," he murmured.

She hummed a reply.

"Piper," he repeated one more time. "I love you."

A long, silent crack began to spread on the glass between their hands.

Piper didn't say anything. She didn't need to. Her smile said everything.

Then they leaned forward, as if the glass was nonexistent. There was nothing in the world, in their world, other than them.

And then the mirror shattered.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Their last week together was spent dry. They didn't leave each other's sides for a single moment.

It was the most intimate, but pressuring week of his life.

But it was worth it.

On the final day, it was just like every other. The sky was a wonderful azure blue, and only wisps of clouds streaked it. The sun was warm and comforting, the sea a vast, sparkling stretch.

He dreaded the midnight to come, when Annabeth was to leave forever.

They spent the morning in the bustling market, enjoying lunch at a little café far from the sea. Their afternoon was spent chatting, strolling in the forest. When night fell, they climbed into bed just like every night before, but neither of them slept. They couldn't.

An hour before midnight, they left the warmth of the bed. Annabeth took Percy's hand, her fingers stiff. Percy squeezed her hand for reassurance.

The moon reflected off of the peaks of the lapping waves, the stars were a myriad of tiny eyes, watching them.

There were no songs of mermaids. There was no beckoning of the sea. All was silent.

Percy and Annabeth sat on the beach, away from the water, waiting, mourning.

Then, a song rose in the distance.

It was sung in a language Percy didn't know. A language too old for the humans to recall. Percy couldn't bear seeing the sorrow and longing in Annabeth's eyes, and he looked away, but a tug of his sleeve made him look again.

"You have to come and visit me in the future," she whispered. "Promise me. Every day."

Percy stared at her, at the sorrow etched across her unearthly beautiful face.

She smiled, and rose to kiss him again. She pulled away much too soon for his liking.

"See you, Percy," she said before turning slowly and walking away. Percy didn't move, just stared at her silhouette. She walked into the water, and as if she was still on land, continued to walk.

She didn't stop walking until she was chest high in the sea. Then, she turned slightly and smiled. "We'll see each other again. I'm sure of it."

He did not doubt her. "I know."

And then she disappeared beneath the sea.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

The hunters had burst into the clearing the moment Frank shook Hazel awake. There was this long moment when the two groups stared at each other, frozen in time, as the hunters took in the information and pieced together the puzzles: dark skin + golden eyes = witch.

Then, that moment had cracked and Frank and Hazel fled, the hunters hot in pursuit.

Frank wasn't sure how long he had been running, but Hazel had slowed enough for him to scoop her up and continue escaping. The young girl was near weightless, but that didn't stop him from tiring quickly.

Through the dense canopy of the trees, he saw Apollo's chariot rising steadily. It was nearing noon.

He had managed to buy them some time by crossing the river, then kicking away the log that had acted as a bridge, but he could still hear the hunters crashing through the forest behind them.

They needed to hide. First they have to get rid of the hunters, then hide. But where? How?

Frank's eyes darted left and right, searching for anything, anything at all.

Through the trees, he could see that they are heading towards a clearing. Through his panting and huffing, he could hear the faint echo of running water. Towards the clearing it is, then.

It was now an effort of will to continue running. One foot in front of another, one more step, just one more step, he kept telling himself. Frank continued to flee.

Finally, they burst from the trees and into the clearing.

Frank's stomach dropped to the ground.

The sound of rushing water had not been an illusion, but it had come from far, far below them. Before them was a stretch of empty space, the gaping mouth of the cliff. Behind them, the hunters appeared from the forest as well, and Frank's stomach dropped even more when he realized that the strip of rock they all stood on was far too narrow for Frank and Hazel to run past the hunters.

They were trapped.

The hunters realized this too, and they began to advance slowly, tauntingly, grinning hideously. Frank backed up until his heel nudged the edge of the precipice.

"The witch's lover?" one of the hunters called to Frank. "Hand over your woman and we'll spare you. Perhaps we'll even split some of our prize with you!"

"Frank…" Hazel whimpered, clutching him even tighter.

The hunters took two more steps forward.

"Hazel," Frank said in a low voice, "believe me, okay? Do not let go of me."

She nodded, breathing quickly.

And then, still holding Hazel, he fell off the cliff.

 **τέσσερις** **ιστορίες**

Hazel didn't scream, thankfully, but her clutch around his neck became significantly tighter. Frank could see the hunters peering over the cliff to watch their falling bodies. He knew that this was going to be a long fall.

And then, he saw her.

Hazel, with her eyes squeezed shut, did not see her, but Frank did.

The Queen of the forest fell right alongside with them, her smile joyful, satisfied.

 _'One wish,'_ her voice echoed in his mind.

He took a deep breath, thought for a moment, then answered.

 _'Give us a place in this world.'_

The Queen's smile widened before she disappeared. Even so, Frank knew that she will keep her promise, somehow.

Knowing this, he hugged Hazel closer to him, closed his eyes, and allowed himself to welcome the quick death.

They felt no pain.


	11. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

The church bells rang deeply, the two mournful chimes reverberating through the entire city, and will continue to roll through the land until it fades into echoes. One for each of the royal family that had passed away.

Jason and Piper both had their heads bowed as rocks filled the king and queen's coffins to replace the bodies that had been lost. Assassinated, messengers had said. Their carriage sacked and cremated. Nothing remained but scattered dust and ashes.

The room was too hot, too stuffy for Jason.

He had never been particularly fond of his parents, especially his stepmother, but it still pained him in the realization that they will not live to the old age they had hoped to live to.

Somebody took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly, and he lifted his eyes to see Piper smiling at him gently, her ever-changing eyes filled with a muffled grief. Even though she hadn't known the king and queen all that well, and their relationship wasn't exactly smooth, she mourned for them. The kindest queen the kingdom will ever see.

 _'Let's go for a walk,'_ she mouthed. _'You look like you need it.'_

Jason nodded, and he allowed her to lead him out the church, ignoring glances from people of the court and hired mourners.

The wind was cool and soothing against his skin, and he couldn't help but feel detached, as if his soul and body had separated, connected only through a thread.

Piper did not say anything to comfort him, only kept close to him to reassure him, and he was glad.

The cemetery somehow felt like an appropriate for a stroll that day, and that was where they headed. The church cemetery held only the bodies of royalty and the wealthy, so the others were buried in a public cemetery near the sea, where the briny wind was mild and comfortable.

No one paid them much attention, despite their extravagant clothing. There weren't much people around at all.

A few children loitered by the cemetery, playing catch and hide-and-seek behind the tombstones, but other than their joyful calls, it was silent.

Jason skimmed through the passing tombstones, the words blurring together until one caught his eye.

It looked quite typical, a hard rock with letters carved onto its grainy surface. But this tombstone, instead of a single name, there was two.

 _Frank Zhang & Hazel Levesque_

And under that:

 _Who died in each other's arms,_

 _And deserves a place in this world more than anyone else._

Before their stone was a rock. Just one rock, smooth and round, but nothing else.

Some distance before them, they heard laughter.

"What in Hades?" a feminine voice asked. "Of all the sceneries to paint, you choose the cemetery?"

A girl and a boy who was possibly her lover came into view. The boy was holding a large canvas and paints, while the girl helped him with the brushes and other tools.

"Why not?" the boy asked, grinning cheekily. "Look at the beautiful view! Someone is bound to enjoy it."

"Because someone totally likes a picture of a gloomy cemetery hanging from their wall."

"Sunshine, look around! How is it gloomy? It's autumn, not winter: it's not gloomy!"

The bantering couple passed Piper and Jason, not even sparing them a glance.

The mourning couple continued down the gravel trail, silent, hovering between consciousness and daze. They continued to walk until the sea wind was biting, and they are winding down a hill towards the beach.

On the beach, standing before the setting sun, was a man, his dark haired tousled by the wind. The man stared towards the distance, unmoving, his sea green eyes filled with loss.

Piper took Jason's arm, and they approached him.

"Are you okay?" Piper asked the man. "What is wrong?"

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, the man smiled and pointed to the horizon. "Look."

They looked. In the distance, something rose from the waves, a large tail, rising, light shimmering on its scales and water sliding off in a sparkling cascade. Then it slapped down onto the water, almost like a crude wave, and disappeared.

"That's Annabeth," the man whispered, smile never fading, "She says hi."

 **Hi everyone! Thank you for everyone that had favorited and followed and reviewed this story. I really enjoyed writing it. As I may or may not have mentioned, after Four Stories I am writing a ClarissexChris story. It will be called Mind Maze, and I'll post the first chapter as soon as possible, latest being April. However, after Mind Maze, I don't have anything to write, so I won't mind if you guys offer something. It doesn't have to be a pairing, could be a vague idea or anything, because truthfully, I'm only writing romance to practice writing it. So... if you have any suggestions, review it! I'll consider it. And if you support Clarisse and Chris, look forward to Mind Maze! It'll be interesting, that's for sure.**

 **Thank you!**


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